


High Rollers

by spurious



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Canto Bight, Double Dating, F/M, Inspired by Fanart, Undercover Missions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-10 16:46:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15295800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spurious/pseuds/spurious
Summary: How the four of them had been chosen for this mission is still a bit of a mystery to Rey, though she’s pretty sure it had to do with the fact that they were the ones who fit best into the random collection of formalwear the alliance had on their base.





	High Rollers

**Author's Note:**

> Short fic inspired by a piece of art commissioned from the amazingly talented [nemling](http://nemling.tumblr.com/)!

How the four of them had been chosen for this mission is still a bit of a mystery to Rey, though she’s pretty sure it had to do with the fact that they were the ones who fit best into the random collection of formalwear the alliance had on their base.

Ben makes sense--he’s General Organa’s son, had spent time rubbing elbows with the upper class in his childhood, though Rey had heard Leia lament more than once that he’d inherited his father’s social graces (or lack thereof). The rest of them, though? Former stormtrooper, Jakku scavenger, and the sweetest, but most awkward mechanic Rey’s ever met: she’s pretty sure they’ll stick out like sore thumbs from the moment they step into the casino. Luckily, though, no one seems to pay them any attention, and they walk out onto the floor like they belong there. Rey adjusts her posture, the weight of her lightsaber strapped against her thigh a small bit of comfort in the long, draped gown she’s wearing.

A waiter walks by with a try of bubbly drinks in long-stemmed glasses balanced on one long tentacle.

“Compliments of the house,” he says in a high-pitched, hissing voice.

On the way there, Rey had read a book about casino games, figuring it wouldn’t do to look like complete amateurs. 

“This was in the book,” Rey says as they each take a glass. “They pass out free drinks so your inhibitions are lowered and you take more risks, spend more money.”

“We’re here to take risks anyway, aren’t we?” asks Finn, tilting the glass back and taking a long drink.

“I prefer my inhibitions right where they are,” Ben says, a hint of amusement in his deep voice. He takes a sip, though. Rey looks him up and down--built like he is, it’s got to take a fair bit of drink to have an effect on him.

“I’m with Finn,” Rose says. “A little liquid courage never hurt.”

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Finn grins, clinking his glass to hers.

Rey takes a slow sip from her glass, the bubbles tickling her tongue. It doesn’t have the bite, the face-punching, knock-you-on-your-ass effect of the cheap liquor she’s had before, instead simply sending a warm, pleasant flush through her.

Ben raises an eyebrow. “You’re flushed already.”

Rey purses her lips. “I don’t need you to look out for me, thanks.”

“Just…” Ben says, leaning in and lowering his voice so only Rey can hear. “Have you ever tried using the Force while intoxicated? It’s not pretty.”

Something about the tone makes it clear he has personal experience in this area, and the thought makes Rey snort, despite herself.

“I’ll take that under advisement,” she says, telling herself she hasn’t noticed that he’s cute when he blushes.

***

Rey’s used to keeping a low profile, just in general, but especially on missions. It goes against her nature to make a scene, but that’s exactly what they need to do, posing as high rollers to attract the attention of the weapons dealer they’re targeting. She can tell Ben’s feeling similarly, the discomfort obvious in his stiff body language.

Finn and Rose, meanwhile, have been knocking back glasses of the bubbly drink, growing more and more boisterous with each one. It works for the image they’re trying to portray, so Rey just hangs back to keep an eye on them, staying at the other side of the round table.

They’re playing a game that Rey is fairly sure is rigged. There’s a certain tilt to the movement of the dice that suggests they’re weighted, and they’re burning through the supply of credits they’d brought with them.

“Let it ride,” Finn shouts, gleeful, and Rey watches as Rose pushes a pile of Cantocoins that’s worth about a week’s worth of meals for the entire base out onto the table. Rey feels her face go white.

“They’re going to clean us out,” Rey says, panicked.

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Ben says, putting a hand in his pocket. When he’d handed the credits over to Finn to exchange, he’d said it was all they had, but clearly he’d been holding out.

“What, you didn’t trust them?” Rey asks.

“I don’t trust casinos,” Ben replies. “The house always wins.”

Fears somewhat assuaged, Rey turns her attention back to the table. Rose is holding the dice, shaking them between her hands, and as she releases them onto the table, a thought occurs to Rey.

_Why, exactly, are we playing by the rules here?_

It just takes a flick of the wrist, a tiny manipulation of energy, and the dice tumble onto the table, showing a jackpot.

Several things happen at once. Rose screams. Finn whoops, incredulous, and wraps his arms around Rose in glee. Bells and whistles blare to announce their win, the table’s dealer very nearly faints, and--in the quietest and least noticeable way to anyone other than Rey--Ben gives her a suspicious, sidelong look. 

Rey brings a finger to her lips, smiling conspiratorially. She feels his disapproval, obvious through the Force, but there’s something else behind it--he’s amused, a bit impressed, and...it feels like fondness?

Startled, and a little embarrassed, Rey tries to hide her blush by picking up her glass from the table and bringing it to her lips, raising a toast to Finn and Rose’s “luck.”

\----

It only occurs to her later, as they’re on their way back from the mission, that Ben is usually quite good at keeping his emotions from flowing through the Force.

_Must have been the alcohol,_ she tells herself, though he’d only had one glass, because the only other explanation is that he’d _wanted_ her to feel it.


End file.
